


You Spork

by twelvensfield



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Baking, Established Dan Howell/Phil Lester, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phan Fluff, Phan cute, Snogging, affectionate nicknames, spoopy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 09:41:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13164285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twelvensfield/pseuds/twelvensfield
Summary: 'Dan’s sarcasm is actually tangible as he sneaks closer to where Phil’s standing and backs Phil into the sink. His eyes crinkle and he leans down, not far, biting his lip and curling his hands ever-so-slightly into the hem of Phil’s t-shirt.'Short oneshot, kitchen cuteness.





	You Spork

“You _spork,_ Phil.” Dan snorts and looks at Phil through the corner of his eye, grinning in disbelief. Phil struggles for breath as he laughs and attempts to continue baking. Dan glares at the camera and tugs the bowl out of Phil’s hands, stepping away from the shitstorm now covering the floor of their kitchen. “Whoever thought about giving Phil a bloody electric mixer to play with should be sAcked,” he pauses, “oh no, what have I done, why do I say these things?” Dan sighs and just continues to mix, smashing a hand to his face. Phil’s clutching his sides and his eyes are watering, laughter lighting up his features.

“Right, you gremlin, clean this shit up.” Dan hands Phil a wad of paper towels and begins scooping the mixture into cake cases. Phil is sliding his feet around on the floor, kitchen towel strapped to his shoes so at least _some_ of the gloop isn’t there anymore.

When the cakes go in the oven, Dan puts on a timer and jams out to the first song on his ‘dopest squiggly mash disco’ playlist, managing to both cringe at and enjoy the sheer enthusiasm of his flailing limbs. Phil’s off-camera, giggling, and attempting to wash up the utensils they’d used so far (unsuccessfully, but only because of the fixation he has on Dan’s movements).

Phil snatches Dan’s phone from his hands, under the pretence that he’ll ‘break it and be distraught, you actual swine’. He turns off the camera, leaving it on the tripod and chucking Dan’s phone onto the sticky counter. “Oi oi, Philly boy, I thought you diDn’t want me to break my phone.”

“Well maybe I just wanted you to stop being such a dork and help me wash up.” Phil’s grinning.

“Did you _really,_ Phil?” Dan’s sarcasm is actually tangible as he sneaks closer to where Phil’s standing and backs Phil into the sink. His eyes crinkle and he leans down, not far, biting his lip and curling his hands ever-so-slightly into the hem of Phil’s t-shirt.

Phil swallows but pushes Dan back softly with a shove at his shoulders, “I bet you think you’re right smooth. But you still have to help me with this mountain of crap.” Phil gestures to the spoons and spatulas soaking in the washing-up bowl.

“What, even though you’re the one who dropped fucking cake batter all over the tiles?” Dan smiles and his eyes crinkle again even though Phil’s expression is far from amused.

“Hey, I cleaned that up and you’re the one who got flour smeared on my jeans. Now I have to actually _wash_ my clothes.”

Dan’s nose crinkles but then his eyes light up, “Maybe you should just take them off now, save you the trouble of doing it later.”

This time Phil’s the one that leans in, fast and longing, grabbing Dan by the front of his jumper with a huff and grinning into a kiss, which is quickly developing into a snog (with Phil’s fingers entwined into Dan’s hobbit hair and Dan’s looped through the front of Phil’s jeans as he slowly slides them further down Phil’s hips) when Phil steps away. “Baking, Dan, we’re bloody baking. This is not a weird kinky fanfiction and the pinger’s going to go off soon so help me wash up.” Dan grabs a tea towel reluctantly and dries spoons for an (in his opinion) unacceptable amount of time, but manages to blow a few suds in Phil’s face so considers the ordeal successful.

That is, of course, before Phil decides to flick the bubbles back in Dan’s direction, and they engage in a full-on soap fight. Dan manages to get a handful down the back of Phil’s neck before he is unceremoniously dragged to the floor and pinned under Phil’s body. “Baking, Phil,” Dan imitates, grinning, “we’re bloody baking.”

“Shut _up_ you rat.” Phil’s grinning too but he punches Dan on his shoulder anyway.

“Make me.”

“Okay.” Phil smirks and surges forwards, grinding his hips into Dan’s thigh when he meets their lips and heats his hands with the warmth of Dan’s exposed stomach. Dan’s once again on a mission to remove Phil’s jeans when the timer for the cakes buzzes, and both of them let out an irritated huff. Phil lets their lips linger when he moves to stand, dragging Dan with him all the way.

“Baking.”

“Baking.”

“I hate fucking baking.”

“Yeah, me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this short lil oneshot for all the phannies out there (myself included) so please show your love with kudos, and if you want to please comment because those make my day. Thanks, don't mind my fishing for compliments -- or criticisms, either one I'm not picky :)


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